


at the end of the day

by helsinkibaby



Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Community: 1-million-words, F/M, Fluff, Het, Missing Scene, Romance, Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 19:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30144603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: After a long, horrible day, Katsumoto goes to Noelani’s house
Relationships: Noelani Cunha/Gordon Katsumoto
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9
Collections: 1 Million Words' Weekend Challenge





	at the end of the day

**Author's Note:**

> For the one million words weekend challenge prompt : Love fact: Attachment + Caring + Intimacy = Perfect Love

Gordon is breathing hard by the time he stands on Noelani’s front porch, his hand shaking as he presses the doorbell. Part of it is to do with running around with Magnum all day, trying to find Stanley Tak’s killer. Another part is to do with finding a dump site in the forest, finding Magnum out cold beside it, wrestling him back to Robin’s Nest and calling Higgins to tell her what had happened. 

And most of it is because the events of the day are finally catching up to him. 

For the last five years, he’s known Stanley was gone but he’d thought it was some sort of accident. To find out it was murder? His mentor? His friend? 

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he hardly notices the door opening, only snapping to attention when he hears her quiet, “Gordon.” 

She doesn’t sound like the Noelani he saw earlier on, all business at a crime scene, doesn’t look like it either. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, and her ME’s overalls have been replaced by cotton shorts and an oversized t-shirt that’s slipping off one shoulder. She’s ready for bed, he notes absently and he shakes his head at the thought he might be disturbing her. “I know it’s late-” he says and she doesn’t let him get any further than that. 

“Come inside.” Still with that same gentle voice, she tugs at his left hand and brings him in, closes the door without letting go, without ever turning away from him. Then she is in front of him, her body warm against his, her palms on his chest. “How are you?” 

He nods, swallows hard, looks at somewhere over her shoulder. The sympathy he sees in her face, the worry, makes his throat ache and it’s hard to speak for a second. “We found a dump site, thanks to your mosquitos,” he hears himself say. “We think Stanley was using Ralph to search for-”

“Gordon.” Her voice is firmer this time, but doesn’t lose that gentleness either. It’s quite a feat and only she could pull it off. “I don’t care about the case.” Her hands move up to cup his cheeks. One thumb sweeps up and down and his eyes feel very heavy suddenly. “I care about you.” His head follows his eyes in the feeling heavy stakes and he leans forward, lets his forehead touch hers. This close, all he can see are her eyes, huge and dark and worried. “How are _you_?”

Gordon’s not a man who talks about his feelings easily, as his ex-wife had told him many times in varying levels of volume and anger. But tonight he’s tired, mentally and physically, he’s grieving the loss of a mentor and friend, he has more questions than answers and this woman, with her gentle touch and her gentle eyes, is the only person he wants to see, this is the only place he wanted to be. 

The breath he sucks in sounds more a like a sob as the words, “Not good,” tear from his throat. “I’m working with Magnum. Voluntarily,” he continues and she makes a noise somewhere between laughter and tears. 

“Oh god.” Another tug of his hand and she’s leading him into her living room, towards the very comfortable couch where they usually curl up to watch television. Or not watch, which is what happens more often than not. once they’re sitting down, both her hands close over his left hand, her skin warm where his is cold and she leans in to him. “Talk to me?” 

It’s almost a whisper but he nods. “It’s weird,” he says. “I knew Stanley was dead. He had to be. But there was still hope, you know? That maybe he was out there somewhere and one day he’d just walk in through the door...” His throat closes up and he swallows hard. Her hands tighten on his. “We thought it was an accident. He slipped, hit his head, fell over a cliff... but murder...” Sure, Stanley had put a lot of bad people away, probably had a list of enemies as long as his arm. But all cops do. Gordon does, he could easily name a dozen people who would love to see him come to harm. But he could also count on the fingers of one hand the amount of cops who had actually been hurt, much less killed, as an act of revenge. 

“He was a good man.” 

“The best.” He finds himself chuckling at a sudden memory. “When I found out about my wife, when I was going through the divorce, he and Henny practically adopted me. I spent so many evenings around their dinner table... then later, he kept on telling me I should get back out there, that I needed a good woman to keep me in check...” He meets her gaze, sees a flush on her cheeks that wasn’t there a few minutes ago. “He would have loved you.” 

She looks down, bites her lip, shy suddenly. “I wish I could have met him.” 

He holds up his right hand which is just starting to throb. He should have taken some painkillers before coming over here. “He would have given me hell over this, that’s for sure.” 

Too late he realises that you should never show an injury to a doctor. She lets go of his left hand to seize his right, examines it closely like she can see the bones beneath the cast. Maybe he should have brought his x-rays with him. “You shouldn’t be at work.” He gives her a look as she rolls her eyes. “Futile, I know.” 

He looks down, sees her hands on his and a memory comes to him, one that he’d forgotten in the rush of pain, physical and mental, from that morning. He can see, in his mind’s eye, her standing in front of him, a frown on her face as she carefully cut his black plastic crime scene glove off his hand, her face twisted in a grimace. He knows that was partly because she was upset for him, partly because she didn’t want to hurt him which, considering he’d just punched a tree, was nigh on impossible. And he knows it was partly because he’d frightened her - she would never have seen him act like that before. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he tells her quietly and her jaw drops slightly. 

She shakes her head. “I understand...”

“I know you do. But I’m still sorry I scared you. I would never want to do that.” He lifts his left hand, lays it on her knee and squeezes. “And thank you for taking care of me.” 

The flush on her cheeks strengthens. It’s a good look on her. “I didn’t do much...” she demurs but he’s not having that. 

“I’m not just talking about this morning.” His left hand moves to her cheek, cupping it much the same way she’d cupped his moments earlier. Sudden tears blur his vision. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

It’s more than he meant to say and, if the flare of her eyes is anything to go by, more than she expected to hear. But she recovers quickly, gently laying his hand down and wrapping her arms around his neck. He slides his arms around her, buries his face in the crook of her neck and closes his eyes. When one of her hands begins to move through the hairs at the nape of his neck, he actually shivers. A huff of laughter moves across his skin and he tilts his head up to see her smiling. 

“Come on.” Her voice is very soft and he knows what she means, stands up and takes her hand, helps her up too. Still holding hands, they make their way to her bedroom where she helps him take off his shirt, her fingers moving with practised ease through the buttons. He handles the rest himself then climbs into bed beside her. He wraps himself around her and, in a reverse to their usual sleeping patterns, scoots down so that his head rests against her chest. Her fingers once again move through his hair and, on one of the worst days of his life, he’s thankful he’s here. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” She sounds sleepy but he can tell there’s a smile on her face. “Since you’re off the case?” She already knows the answer, he can tell. 

“Magnum and I found a phone at the dump site we found,” he tells her. “I’ll head over to Robin’s Nest... see if Higgins can work her magic...” He feels her chuckle, hears it rumble in her chest. It’s a comforting sound, one that makes him want to smile too, no matter how bad the day has been. “I want to find who did this, Noelani. For Stanley.” 

“You will.” Her voice is quiet but unshakable belief rings in every syllable. She presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I know you will.” 

Her quiet confidence ringing in his ears, he closes his eyes and he’s asleep in minutes.


End file.
